


hold your breath and cut through the darkness

by allourheroes



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Naruto Fusion, M/M, Nogitsune Stiles Stilinski, Non-Graphic Violence, Protectiveness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-25
Updated: 2018-12-25
Packaged: 2019-09-20 02:23:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17013774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allourheroes/pseuds/allourheroes
Summary: Stiles was supposed to be backtwo days ago, so when his team returns without him, Derek goes to find him. (And it's totallynotbecause he's in love with him, despite what Erica says.)ANaruto-inspired Sterek AU! In which Derek and Stiles are team leaders, the nogitsune is to Stiles what the nine-tailed fox is to Naruto, and there is, at one point, ramen.





	hold your breath and cut through the darkness

**Author's Note:**

  * For [agna333](https://archiveofourown.org/users/agna333/gifts).



> For Sterek Secret Santa 2018.
> 
> God, I really, really hope you like this, agna333.
> 
> Warning: There are brief mentions of what could be non-consensual intentions toward a character, but they are fairly vague and nothing of that nature happens.
> 
> [Title from the English translation of "R★O★C★K★S" by Hound Dog, the first opening theme for _Naruto_.]

Stiles had always been a little odd, had a little too much energy. It wasn’t until Derek’s life was in danger that it had manifested as a creepy fox spirit.

Deaton didn’t own up to why Stiles had a creepy fox spirit in him until it happened again. And again. And the fox spirit—a _nogitsune_ —threatened to take hold of Stiles completely.

At that point, he hunted down some special lichen, did a binding ritual, and explained how the nogitsune that currently resided inside of Stiles had once fed on the town of Beacon Hills. It had taken his mother everything—and more, so much more—to lock it away in her only child and she had thought that, despite the fox inside of him, he would be okay. She had been strong with magic and, if it worked right, Stiles would be stronger with the nogitsune than without.

What other choice did she have?

Everyone had always known, in some way, what Stiles was. He had always been different. The kitsune and wolves alike had been suspicious of him even before the nogitsune emerged, but after a time, it started to be okay. The nogitsune could almost be forgotten, now a devil known rather than a mystery.

Derek can’t forget though. Not when he’s seen the thing firsthand, has seen the sort of hold it can have on Stiles, how it can take those traits that Stiles normally controlled, could amplify and twist them to make it seem like they were just part of who he is. And Stiles is annoying, definitely, but he’s not evil.

The nogitsune, even when it tries to fake it, is definitely not Stiles. And Derek _knows_ Stiles. They didn’t get along when they first met, but they’re… Well.

Derek and Stiles are friends, sure. He has to admit that now after all the times they’ve saved each other’s lives and all the embarrassingly open conversations they’ve had and how much they— _ugh_ — _care_ about each other.

But really? _Stiles_ gets to help train the wolves and kitsune at the school?

 _Stiles_?

He barely even counts as a supernatural given how far buried the nogitsune has to be for him to even _function_.

Meanwhile, Derek was born a wolf. He had tracked down and killed his own uncle in revenge and inherited the mantle of Hale Alpha. He’s strong even when he’s in control, while Stiles…

Stiles can barely swing a _baseball bat_ without the nogitsune.

And Derek can remember when they’d been caught together in the attack, when he’d been ready to bleed to death, outnumbered and out of options. Stiles had snapped, hadn’t been Stiles anymore but had become something other. The thing that wasn’t Stiles had taken down three Alphas like they were whiny children, had dipped a finger into the hole in Derek’s chest and licked the blood clean, savoring the taste of his suffering.

It could’ve killed him. Derek knows that.

But instead Stiles had struggled to the surface long enough to ask for help, to beg Derek to knock him out, kill him, anything, _anything_ , to keep the nogitsune away (away from Derek, he hadn’t said, but his eyes had _pleaded_ ).

Derek doesn’t like to dwell on that, another horrible thing he’d witnessed. Another horrible thing he’d had to do. But it had been necessary and Stiles, when he was really Stiles again, had thanked him for it.

It still doesn’t mean that Stiles is qualified to help supernatural beings find their focus and learn how to fight.

Stiles has his own _team_. They’re totally screwed, in Derek’s opinion. Then again...Scott has his own team.

Derek isn’t sure which is worse.

Liam, one of Scott’s, nearly bowls Boyd over and Derek thinks maybe Stiles is the better option.

Stiles spends a great deal of time talking to his team. Reassuring them while simultaneously emphasizing just how dangerous it is to be caught alone, to forget their own strength, to let what’s inside of them take over. His eyes, those brilliant amber eyes of his, they go loose for a second, far away to something Derek had seen from the outside but can barely fathom seeing from within.

Derek had always been one with his wolf.

...And maybe Derek shouldn’t be so focused on what Stiles is doing with _his_ team when he should be focused on his own.

Derek’s team is older and more experienced, a couple of them his own Beta wolves that act as seconds in command. Boyd is big, strong, and stoic while Erica is sassy, ready to test anyone she thinks needs to be tested. She’s come the farthest, really.

His younger sister Cora is on his team, another born wolf, and even though Stiles has their cousin Malia, Derek is certain his team would have no problem taking on Stiles’s.

To be fair, Malia had been an actual coyote until a year ago, but still.

Derek feels better for just a moment when he thinks about how his experienced, established team could easily take down Stiles’s ragtag bunch.

And then he feels guilty.

“If you keep watching him,” Erica remarks, “everyone is going to know about your big dumb crush.”

Derek is startled out of his thoughts and glares at her. “What? Shut up.”

“Come _on_ ,” she wheedles. “You two were paired together, what? Six times? Everyone knows he only lost control because _you_ were hurt.”

“That’s not— He would’ve done it for anybody.” Which, maybe, is too close to the truth or too kind or too _something_ , because Derek feels like he’s choking.

“Whatever.” Erica flips her hair over her shoulder. “You can call it a hate fuck if it it makes you feel better.”

Derek grits his teeth. “I don’t... _hate_ Stiles.”

“Because you loooove him,” Isaac butts in.

Isaac had been his Beta, too. Before Isaac had fallen head over heels for Scott. (Derek still isn’t sure if it’s romantic or platonic, but whatever it is, it’s _intense_.)

Thankfully, Boyd has Derek’s back. “Leave him alone.” Derek gives a tight nod of appreciation before Boyd adds, “Obviously he’s in love with him.”

The _betrayal_.

~

Stiles bumps Derek’s shoulder with his own when they’re grabbing dinner. “You ready for our teams to go head to head? I’m willing to place a pretty good bet on Malia.”

“Well,” Derek acquiesces. “She’s a Hale.” He raises his eyebrow.

Stiles sputters, flushes slightly. “Yeah, well.” He taps his fingers on the counter. “She’s got _Stilinski_ training.”

Derek rolls his eyes, he places his order and takes out his wallet but Stiles is pressing cash into the guy’s hand instead.

“I know I can’t afford much, but I can pay for your _ramen_ , alright?”

Stiles’s smile is bright and disarming and Derek would like to pretend the heat he feels is from the bowl being set in front of him, steam curling over the hot broth. It takes him far too long to mutter a stilted, “Thanks,” before he’s watching Stiles grab his own bowl. “Do you want to…”

“Eat together?” Stiles finishes for him, grin even wider. “Sure!”

They settle across from each other and Stiles slurps his noodles so aggressively that Derek feels little flecks of broth spattering his own face. It’s disgusting and he sneers, ready to tell Stiles so, but he opens his mouth to speak and Stiles looks up at him with those big round doe eyes (and noodles hanging from his mouth, of course) and Derek shuts himself up.

“What?” Stiles asks, but it’s nearly unintelligible, garbled around his ramen.

Derek shakes his head, resumes eating like he’s _not_ the one closer to a wild animal.

~

Stiles’s team gets sent on a mission that’s supposed to be _easy_. They’re just going to escort a cub back to her pack.

It should’ve taken two days max. Get her there, settle things with the pack, return to Beacon Hills.

Derek had been antsy after two days, at which point Erica had teased him again, but it’s been _four_ now and Derek is _seriously worried_. Erica is worried. Hell, even _Boyd_ is worried at this point, in his own quiet way.

Malia and the two younger wolves return, but Stiles isn’t with them.

The wolves are scared, don’t want to talk, and Derek growls when he talks to Malia, which she meets with a growl of her own. “What happened? Where is he?”

Malia pulls herself out of Derek’s clawed grasp and flashes her own eyes and fangs. It’s probably for the best that she had been on Stiles’s team and not his. He and Cora were stubborn enough, another Hale would’ve only made things worse. Malia snaps her teeth in warning when Derek doesn’t back off, and Derek retreats to give her space. She shakes her head. “Hunters.”

“Is he—” Derek’s throat closes with a click.

Malia sets her jaw. “I don’t know.” She glances back at the wolves where they cower together, explaining what had happened to Noah, and Melissa, who checks them over, talks them down. “They weren’t after _us_.”

And it’s clear what she means. A sick, twisting, sour thing churns in Derek’s gut.

The hunters hadn’t been after the shifters.

They had been after the _nogitsune_.

“Where?” he asks.

Malia huffs. “The scent ends where the northern trail splits. I tried to follow but I lost track and I had to make sure they got back.”

Derek’s nostrils flare. Technically, she made the right decision. She went for the good of the many when she found the way to be too difficult and too dangerous to take.

He gets it.

But he _hates_ it.

“I’m going,” he says, and doesn’t wait for any other information. He stalks off only for Noah to block his path.

“What are you doing, son?”

“I’m going to find Stiles.”

There’s a tension, a furrow in Noah’s brows that says he agrees with Derek. That he’d loved to head right out there with him. But then he says, “He might not be Stiles when you find him.”

Derek knows the other thing better than anyone else, at least so far as it’s connection to Stiles goes. He’d just rather pretend that he _isn’t_ what brings out the nogitsune. (And it’s only been him. Somehow, only him. Three times.)

Noah is waiting for a response, won’t step out of the way until he’s satisfied that Derek knows what he’s getting into, but it takes Derek a moment to muster up the words.

Derek’s heart is stone as he says, “I know.”

Cora is staring at him when he leaves, worried. They used to have a family, parents and siblings, and they have Malia now, but it’s mostly just _them_. Cora isn’t ready to be an only child and Derek doesn’t want to leave her that way.

He just can’t leave Stiles in the hands of hunters.

And he isn’t sure if it’s because he fears Stiles will be lost to the nogitsune’s destructive powers or if it’s because Stiles will be unable to summon it to his own defense, now of all times. Stiles defends himself, but he defends others far more fiercely. The nogitsune would likely be happy to destroy the hunters and anyone else who crosses its path, Stiles included.

If Derek can get there, and get there soon, maybe there’s a _chance_.

He sticks to the shadows, has to suppress his own heartbeat a couple of times as the loud thudding in his chest becomes difficult to hear over. He can smell the fear of the wolves, sharp and sour and too bright, but underneath he finds Stiles. Stiles was scared and...something else. There’s something threading through his emotions, the chemosignals more difficult to define, but what matters is that Derek can scent Stiles.

He’s better than most at this; he’s had to be with all that’s happened to him.

Derek hears a twig snap and climbs into one of the trees, hoping against hope he hasn’t already been spotted. He used to sneak up on Stiles sometimes and Stiles would always clutch his chest, scold Derek. He wishes this were like that, just a game.

Watching the ground through his wolf eyes, sensitive to movement, Derek spots a human, but she doesn’t smell like hunters. Derek waits until she’s out of sight, gone the opposite direction, before he continues his pursuit.

It’s likely the hunters have a camp. Something as dangerous as the the nogitsune would need to be dealt with, and soon, so they’d probably try to find somewhere _just_ far enough. Derek knows that their scents will be blocked, that there will be a red herring leading elsewhere.

At least, if these are Argents, and Derek is certain that they are. Deep in his bones, he knows Kate is here, trying to take away one more thing that matters to him. (Because that, Derek can admit. Stiles _matters_ to him. Whatever Erica and the others may think, that much is true.)

But Derek knows Argents well enough to see through all their tricks.

It takes him a while, but he starts to hear the rustling of people, the clinking of chains. There are at least five different heartbeats and he can’t yet determine if one belongs to Stiles. Right now he’s just surprised he can’t hear Stiles’s voice, but that must mean—if Stiles is alive, _if_ —that Stiles is gagged or unconscious.

Chills go down his spine as he hears Kate laugh and he hates being right.

“It looks so _human_ ,” she coos, and there’s a crackling sound that Derek knows far too well.

There’s the muffled sound of someone crying out in pain, and Derek has to rein in his wolf so he doesn’t do anything rash because that someone is unmistakably Stiles. He scents the air. They’ve got something else, too, but if Kate’s with Stiles, he’s likely the prize.

“Are you _trying_ to bring it out?” a man’s voice hisses and Derek thinks it must be Kate’s brother, Chris. “We just need to put that _thing_ out of its misery while the host is in control. You don’t need to play with it.”

Derek can hear Kate’s pout. “You’re no fun,” she whines. “I wouldn’t mind taking this one out for a spin,” she continues and Derek has to dig his claws into his own leg.

“This thing is dangerous, Katie.” A third voice. He’s more teasing than chastising. “But since your mother passed, you _are_ in charge.” A fondness. _Gerard_.

“Dad, do you really think we should—”

Gerard makes a noise you might use to scold a dog. Chris isn’t the favorite, probably because he has some sense in him. In Derek’s opinion, Argents have never seemed overly fond of _sense_. “Your sister makes the decisions. You follow orders.”

Derek could almost feel bad for him...if he weren’t an Argent.

He risks a move, wants to see, and it’s just as horrifying as he had imagined.

Stiles is strung up, hands tied over his head and his feet dangling, all his weight supported by his bound wrists. He’s certainly _feigning_ unconsciousness, but Derek has a feeling that Stiles is more aware than he lets on. Derek doesn’t have to be a genius to know there’s mountain ash that makes his rescue more difficult than it appears. It _looks_ easy, but the Argents are unfortunately not that stupid. 

Kate trails lazy fingers down Stiles. “Less lean than you’d think, huh?”

She turns and Derek ducks down, hopes she doesn’t see the movement through the foliage and get suspicious.

The silence goes on too long but it’s Chris who speaks. “Not paranoid, are we, Kate? That’s not very becoming of a leader.”

“Shut up,” she snaps. “Being cautious is what keeps us one step ahead of the beasts.” Derek can hear her sneer, but Chris’s heartrate stays even.

Derek listens as her footsteps retreat, the sound of a tent flap. He calms himself, starts thinking of a strategy now that Kate’s threat is just a _little_ less immediate.

“Derek,” Chris whispers. “It’s Derek, isn’t it?”

Derek’s heart drops to the pit of stomach.

“Look, if you’re here for the nogitsune, I’m willing to help.”

With a careful ear for noise, Derek drops down on the other side of the tree and waits, knowing Chris will approach.

Derek keeps his claws out, but hidden, curled toward his own palms. “Why would an Argent go against Argents?”

“I have a daughter,” Chris says. “About the same age.”

“And that means you’re ready to let him go?” Derek shakes his head. “Doesn’t add up.”

“Look.” Chris’s eyes are sharp and blue, but they’re not like Kate’s, not filled with saccharine sympathy that belies the utter disregard for life underneath. “Boy or not, I’m willing to put that thing down if it comes to the surface,” Chris says and Derek wants to rip his throat out, tear him to pieces.

Derek stiffens. “Then why don’t you?”

Chris’s gaze darts over and Derek can hear Kate and Gerard inside.

Derek lets out a low growl. “They think they can _use_ him?”

“It,” Chris corrects.

Normally, Derek would agree, but what they have now is Stiles through and through. Still. Thankfully.

“They haven’t figured it out and I’ve seen one before. They don’t go down easy.” He grits his teeth. “That thing could destroy everything, and I’m not ready for that kind of civilian casualty just because my father and my sister think they can harness it for their benefit.”

“Stiles is not the nogitsune,” Derek warns, hopes his anger covers his worry. “It just lives inside of him. It… It stays there.”

Chris raises an eyebrow. He may not hear the blip in Derek’s heartbeat but he’s trained, and Derek has been _obvious_. “You’ve seen it.” Not a question.

Maybe… Maybe there’s a way to convince Chris that it’s okay, to hedge this into Stiles’s favor. “Yes. And I survived.”

“How many times?” His mind is calculating and Derek hates that he’s trying to reason with an Argent.

“Doesn’t matter. It doesn’t come out.” He tries to push all the certainty he can into the words.

“It comes for _you_.” Chris chuckles.

Derek exhales sharply through his nose. “He doesn’t— He doesn’t protect himself with it. It won’t come out because you have him under threat.”

Chris Argent doesn’t say anything else, but Derek can see what he’s thinking, what he must think of Derek and Stiles.

There’s no point in correcting him; it would just be more time wasted that they don’t have if Stiles is going to survive this. Speaking of time… “How long until she comes back?”

“Minutes, if we’re lucky,” Chris says. He eyes Derek warily. “I’ll cut the ties and then you have have fifteen seconds before I start shouting.”

Derek raises an eyebrow. “Fifteen seconds?”

The look he receives in response is hard and incredulous. “Fifteen seconds.”

Derek swallows down any further protest. “Thanks.”

There’s a noise and Chris’s teeth grind. “Alright.”

He moves swiftly and Derek is barely processing before Chris is sawing through the rope that binds Stiles, letting Stiles fall with a painful-sounding thump, just a hint too sharp for his complete safety to be assured.

“Already broken,” Chris informs him offhand, as if the fact that Stiles’s bones had _already_ been cracked was any possible consolation.

Derek drags Stiles out where his arms are beyond the ash, pulls him over his shoulder. “It’ll be okay,” he murmurs, and if Chris hears him, so be it. He uncovers Stiles’s mouth and Stiles’s eyes flicker to his but it seems he’s hit his limit, relieved to see Derek.

“Five seconds,” Chris warns.

Derek doesn’t bother trying to respond. He manages to make a small distance before he hears Chris yelling for help, catches blood in the air and knows that Chris has cut himself to make the story plausible.

“Goddamn it, Chris!” he hears, Kate’s voice, and does his best to move faster.

The shock of the force is what gets him, causes him to stagger and shield Stiles’s body from the hunters. His shoulder already burns from the aconite poisoning and he keeps moving.

“Der— Derek.” Stiles swallows thickly.

“Shh. Don’t try to talk, alright? We’re gonna get out of here.” Stiles shifts and Derek hisses.

Stiles moves around _more_ in his concern. “You’re hurt. What—”

Another bullet flies their direction, missing Stiles only because Derek’s reflexes urge him to protect.

“Whoa.”

“Now is not the time,” Derek grits out.

“I can maybe—”

Derek falls to the ground, cradling Stiles to him as he arches over him and Stiles’s voice goes small.

“Derek?”

When Derek doesn’t respond, Stiles goes deathly still.

The sounds of shouting and footsteps grow closer, cacophonous and chaotic.

“There!”

But then Chris is saying, “Wait, wait!”

The footsteps come to a halt and Kate lets out a growl more wild than any wolf Derek has ever known. “What?” she demands.

“We injured the wolf. I’ve heard the nogitsune has only come out when the wolf is in danger.”

“Good. Two birds with one stone. Two _beasts_.” Kate clicks her tongue, pleased. “Derek, honey,” she croons. “Don’t worry, we can save you for last.”

“I’m okay,” Derek says, but he obviously isn’t. Two wolfsbane bullets take their toll much quicker than one. “Just… When they get closer, I’ll get them. They won’t think—”

“Aw, puppy,” and Kate’s voice is far too close. The toe of her boot pushes into his injured shoulder and he flinches, refuses to arch completely under the pressure. “Just give in.”

“Back off,” Stiles says, edging into something dangerous, something _other_.

Derek’s fingers turn to claws, curling around Stiles. “I’m not worth it.”

“Kate,” Chris warns.

Kate laughs. “It’s perfect. Maybe they’ll tear each other apart.”

Stiles’s eyes shut tight and Derek’s feels his body thrumming with energy that isn’t his own.

“I’m okay,” he tries again. Whispers again and again like a mantra, but then Kate cocks her gun, the click deafeningly loud, and Stiles isn’t Stiles anymore.

The nogitsune stands, ignoring whatever of Stiles’s body might protest. It glances down at Derek and frowns.

Derek turns to watch, horror chilling him to the bone. Even as the aconite works toward his heart, it’s this that is truly frightening: Losing Stiles to the nogitsune forever. To know Stiles is trapped inside his own mind as his body rains destruction on all he loves. They’ve bound it but it breaks free, and Derek doesn’t think they’ll ever be able to hold it forever. The thing holds itself differently, its slouch too affected and purposeful, casualness false and wrong.

“Don’t,” Derek says. Not that it’ll matter. He almost misses Kate’s wide grin as she looks to what was Stiles.

The nogitsune raises an eyebrow at him. “Shhh.” It puts a finger to Stiles’s lips, winks.

“I don’t think we’ve been properly introduced,” Kate starts, pulling its attention. “I’ve been trying so hard to get you to come out for a couple of days now. Glad to see something finally worked.” She takes a step toward it in her usual swagger and offers her hand like she’s meeting a new acquaintance over coffee, not a thousand-year-old demon.

Derek would shudder if he had the ability to move at all in this moment, if terror didn’t keep him locked, stock-still.

“Something worked,” it agrees, tilting its head. Its voice is a mockery of Stiles’s. It reaches out for Kate’s hand, but it doesn’t shake, it twists. It takes her down to her knees and leaves her staring up, hair falling over her face as she finally shows pain, some semblance of fear passing through her features before she schools them into anger.

Chris holds out his arm, stops a couple of hunters that had followed from closing in. “Hold on,” he tells them. “Unless you want to get ripped apart.”

The other hunters pause, look between Kate and Chris.

“What are you _doing_?” Kate snarls. “Shoot it.”

Derek crawls forward, brings himself behind Stiles’s legs and pushes himself up, wraps his arms around Stiles’s body. He wants Kate dead, but not like this. He doesn’t want more blood on Stiles’s hands under the nogitsune’s will. “She’s not worth it.”

“Nothing is,” the nogitsune retorts, “but that’s half the fun. She hurt you and _he_ ”—Stiles, the _vessel_ , it’s clear in the nogitsune’s disdain—“got so scared, he let me out. I might as well do him this one little favor...and end her.”

Chris Argent says nothing, just watches the whole exchange with gritted teeth, deep lines creasing around his eyes. The hunters lift their guns uneasily, aim at Stiles, but he waves them down.

“Stiles,” Derek murmurs. “I know you’re in there. Don’t let it do this. Don’t— Don’t be like me. Don’t let anger and fear control you.”

Kate opens her mouth to sneer something else, but the nogitsune forces her back, smiles at the sound of a loud _crack_ and her scream.

“Mmm,” the nogitsune intones. “What a _lovely_ sound. Don’t you think, Derek?”

Derek winces. He forces himself to continue. “Stiles, stop. You have to stop.” Derek hesitates. “Please.” The nogitsune twitches, minutely. If Derek wasn’t a werewolf, he may not have even noticed. “Please, Stiles,” he says again. “Please. For me.”

Kate lets out another noise, animalistic and angry. “Shoot it!” she shouts.

“Please, Stiles. Please. For me. I won’t survive much longer and I want to see you again. _You_. Please.” He presses his face to the back of Stiles’s neck. “You’re stronger than this.” He can feel his blood seeping through, causing his shirt to stick to Stiles’s.

The resounding explosion of a gunshot deafens Derek and he finds himself on the ground, cradling Stiles’s body whether or not Stiles is its active host.

He’s overwhelmed by the smell of Stiles’s blood and his heart stops in his chest.

Gerard stands beside Kate, although he offers her no help. He likely expects that she should be strong enough on her own if she’s an Argent.

“Derek.” Barely a whisper.

Derek spares a glance to Gerard, to the drawn gun, before gently turning Stiles. _Stiles_. He can see it in his face.

Stiles’s breath stutters.

Derek starts to leech his pain, but Stiles shakes head, brings up a hand to touch Derek’s chest.

“St— _Stop_. Derek, you can’t. The wolfsbane.”

Derek’s face crumples. At least he had felt _useful_ , even if only for two seconds.

“Did the team—”

“They made it back.”

Stiles manages a grin that comes out half-grimace. “And you came for me like a self-sacrificing idiot?”

Derek smooths a hand over Stiles’s cheek.

“Can’t we do something?” Kate says, wrestling herself up off the ground. “Shoot them?”

“They’re dying,” Chris says. “Give them a moment.”

Gerard chuckles. “For once, Katie, I agree with your brother. You can see it, can’t you? Beasts in pain, acting like they have the capacity to _care_ for one another. See how they imitate emotion?” He gestures with the gun as if it isn’t incredibly dangerous.

Kate doesn’t respond. She may be the oldest female in the family now, but she still cows to her father’s will.

Derek hears something in the distance, quiet but not so quiet a wolf won’t hear. Multiple heartbeats approaching them.

 _Familiar_ heartbeats.

A roar echoes through the trees surrounding the hunters camp, surrounding the hunters. Snarls and howls and Derek closes his eyes, collapses next to Stiles as the sounds of carnage reverberate through his skull. He feels something touch his hand, Stiles’s. Stiles’s fingers finding his and _oh_.

 _Oh_.

“Erica was right,” Derek says.

Stiles hums and Derek feels it through their little connection.

“I came after you because I loved you.”

The near-inaudible huff is something like a laugh. “Yeah.”

The wolfsbane is working his way into his heart, he can feel everything slowing, feel himself fading.

“Derek?” His voice goes in and out but it’s _Stiles_. Derek tries to concentrate, to let the last thing he hears be Stiles’s words. “I love you, too. That’s why it— For years.”

Derek twitches his fingers, the closest he can get to a squeeze. He wants to say something else. He wants to, but—

Derek wakes up in the medical ward a couple of days later.

Stiles is still by his side.

They’re… They’re _alive_.

And Stiles is Stiles again.

Derek lets out a breath of relief.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments warm me in the winter. ♥
> 
> **Happy Holidays!**


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